


The Little Prince

by gemjam



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Ageplay, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:50:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemjam/pseuds/gemjam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monaco 2013. All Sebastian really craves is comfort and security.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at motorskink which is based on [these](https://fbcdn-sphotos-c-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn2/6723_275417722588424_1469326844_n.jpg) [pictures](https://fbcdn-sphotos-h-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/563369_275417732588423_432569255_n.jpg)

Sebastian climbed from the car, pulling his helmet and balaclava off as he headed to be weighed. He stared at the timing screens in front of him. Third place. Not fucking good enough.

He stepped back outside and saw Heikki waiting for him on the sidelines. As soon as Sebastian approached, Heikki raised his hand in invitation and Sebastian clasped hold of it a little too tightly, folding gratefully against him. His forehead pressed down on Heikki’s shoulder and he closed his eyes tight, trying to resist the urge to just break down right now. It wasn’t the time. It wasn’t safe yet.

Heikki squeezed his hand and Sebastian could tell without looking that he had that fond smile on his face that was partly at Sebastian’s expense. He sighed, shifted closer, angled his mouth towards Sebastian’s ear, and even though the words were murmured so quietly Sebastian was sure no one else would hear, he still said them in Finnish, just to make sure it was only for them.

“Don’t be a brat.”

It was a warning and Sebastian understood it perfectly. He gave a tiny nod, steeling himself up before pulling back, so many things going unsaid between them before their hands finally fell away from one another. Sebastian turned around, stepping up next to Nico in front of the wall of photographers. He didn’t manage a real smile. He knew he had those extra tenths in him so there was no way he could be satisfied with what he’d achieved today.

Back in his room at the Energy Station he stripped with no thought for modesty, laying himself out on the physio table and letting Heikki worry about covering him with a towel. As Heikki started to work the muscles in his back Sebastian groaned, everything so tight and unyielding. It fucking hurt.

“You’re too tense,” Heikki told him. “That was nothing to get so upset over.”

“It’s Monaco,” Sebastian responded. “It was everything.”

Heikki didn’t speak again until he was done, all the knots worked out even if the anxieties hadn’t quite been rubbed away. “I’m coming to your hotel room tonight,” he stated. “Before bedtime.”

Just that word had such an effect on Sebastian, made him go a little slack and needy. He lifted his head, meeting Heikki’s eyes before nodding.

“Go shower,” Heikki told him, turning away. Sebastian did as he was told.

*

Sebastian had never shared this with anyone. It had been a joke at first, a prop given to him for a photograph, but posing with it had felt surprisingly good. He pretended that keeping it was part of the joke too.

He didn’t use it that night, he used his thumb instead, curled up in bed suckling gently on it. It didn’t fit quite as neatly though and his teeth had dug into it and the feel of saliva on his skin was unpleasant. Frustrated and unable to sleep, he’d reached for the real thing, putting the pacifier into his mouth, and he was asleep before he even had chance to question it.

It wasn’t something he did every night, not something he did that often at all. It was for when he’d had a hard day, when things hadn’t gone his way at the track or the media were asking too many difficult questions or his own insecurities began niggling away at him. He never knew when those times would be and so he took a pacifier with him everywhere he travelled. It wasn’t the same one, he’d worked through a few of them now, but it was always one of the first things that went into his luggage. It was the one thing he refused to travel without. Just in case.

He couldn’t even remember what Heikki was looking for now when he searched through Sebastian’s luggage and came out with his current pacifier in his hand, a picture of a little blue fish on the end. Sebastian had stared in horror, words completely failing him. Heikki’s face was as unreadable as ever.

“Put that back,” Sebastian finally said, his voice wavering just slightly. He knew instantly it was a mistake. The first words out of his mouth should have been a denial, a laughing ‘I don’t know how that got there.’ Instead, he’d as good as admitted to everything.

“It suits you,” Heikki said. “I think. Let me check.” He moved forward and Sebastian snatched the pacifier from his hand.

“Mine,” he said possessively.

Heikki nodded his approval. Sebastian, in a fit of frustration, grabbed hold of the bathroom door and swung it closed. He was still on the same side of it as Heikki, storming out would ruin his chance to pout petulantly at him, but slamming it had felt good. He was thinking about stamping his foot for good effect when Heikki grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and before Sebastian knew what was happening, Heikki was sat on the sofa and Sebastian was over his knee. His hand came down sharply against Sebastian’s arse.

“Say you’re sorry.”

Sebastian gasped, still trying to process what was happening. Heikki hit him again, a little bit harder. Sebastian cried out, not because it really hurt, because it felt indescribable on so many levels.

“Sorry,” he rushed out.

Heikki slapped him again. Sebastian shuddered, gripping hold of the sofa cushion beneath him. Heikki’s hand landed on his arse again and again, each hit releasing something inside Sebastian and making him want to surrender. It has nothing to do with the violence, it was all about the control. Each slap was carefully measured, just the right angle, just the right impact, to make him fall apart without ever feeling threatened or unsafe.

“Sorry,” he said again, voice breathy and small. He meant it this time.

Heikki rubbed circles over the small of his back and Sebastian felt a tear spill down his cheek. It wasn’t one of pain but relief at finally being accepted, being free to be who he was.

Heikki sat him up, cradling him on his lap. He hugged him close as he offered the pacifier out to him and Sebastian took it into his mouth gratefully, sucking while Heikki wiped tear tracks from his face.

“You can be a brat or you can be a little prince,” Heikki told him, looking at him fondly. “Understand?”

Sebastian nodded, wrapping his arms around Heikki and burying his face in his chest. Heikki placed a kiss on his temple, rocking him gently, and Sebastian made a contented noise, closing his eyes as he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

He was a always a little prince after that. Well, most of the time. Every little prince wanted to be a brat sometimes. It was only natural.


End file.
